Born to Kill
by FallenShateiel
Summary: Summary: Sequel to Ain’t it a Shame. Derek Mallory Draco Malfoy is a wizard trying to be a Muggle 15 year old. But the Magical War is on the horizon and teenage life is different yet somewhat the same. No pairing, and no idea what kind of story is
1. Choices

Title: Born to Kill

Rating: T (rated for possible future violence and swearing)

Summary: Sequel to _Ain't it a Shame._ Derek Mallory (Draco Malfoy) is a wizard trying to be a Muggle 15 year old. But the Magical War is on the horizon and teenage life is different yet somewhat the same.

A/N: Shitty summary but the best I could do.

**Choices.**

Chapter 1.

As the dominant intelligent life form on this planet we suck bad. There is absolutely nothing worse in this life than being human, stuck in a school of outrageous hormones thinking that one should not have been brain-dead enough to give an age two years younger, after all the gods only know that I've regretted the choice.

"… last weekend was fuckin' awesome…" There's more to this diatribe, but really do I want to listen?

Jack Hellbrows. Irritating to the pint I want to kill him. He's a year younger than I am. Meaning he's dumb enough to be in a class with fifteen to sixteen year olds.

I forget the name of this class. We write, read and argu—

My mistake. _Debate._

I would roll my eyes, but the noise of this room is jarring. My temples seem to scream in agony.

There's a paper _airplane_ coming to stop at the crash of the window.

_Airplane._

How boring. I once sent a swan ( it's the only one I can fold) to Potter. Insulting, as well as entertaining.

I'm finding myself falling into this dreamlike state, where reality is taken from me and shoved aside.

…

I don't like it.

In the life where I was Draco Malfoy I was in Reality. Everything was ultimately real.

Nothing is anymore.

There's a girl over there seventh seat in row three (closest to the window) she has the brown bushy hair of Granger, the face of some Hufflepuff I shared a class with.

Seeing this tiny pin drop of Reality, finds an aching hole in my chest. It snaps my attention to this sudden pain.

Sometimes, I forget I was Draco Malfoy, the heir to nearly ¼ of all the gold in Gringotts. The Slytherin Seeker who glorified the Slytherin name.

However, I've yet to forget the agonizing transition from Draco Malfoy to Derek Mallory.

A destitute homeless kid.

"Can anyone explain to me what differentiates Innocence and Experience?"

_Innocence._

"I think that innocence is when you don't have sex, drugs and goes to church." Declares a burnout kid.

"Actually, I think it's a state of mind." Her name's Rachael, not Rachelle.

"Well, what is Experience?"

"Age."

"Just age?"

"Learning lessons."

"How do you mean?"

"Like, you learn from bad thin—"

"Naivety." Rachael.

"So you think that Innocence is _ignorance_ and Experience is _age _and— what?"

Personally, I don't know what innocence is. I use to be innocent once. I lost it.

Yet, I feel as though I am still innocent. Retaining if only a little bit.

Experience. Change of principles, valve, or just perhaps disillusionment. It scared me the months where sitting cold and hungry in the dark corners of Muggle London, I saw who my family and I really were…

"Jack?"

"I dunno, maybe the whole 'the more you learn' thing."

---- -----

This house is obscenely bring and sunny. The family whose ideal is to be my own family.

Muggles.

So strange in every act they possess.

It smells as though Kathy is cooking Shepard's' Pie.

The staircase is small as is this house. Sometimes I feel claustrophobic in this house, in that school, in this city.

Can anyone know something a near speak of it again?

Can you weave a lie about an imaginary life no one has led?

Sometimes, I wonder if the Fates are playing a horrendous joke on me.

"Oh! You home Derek?" Kathy has middle to high note voice. Monotone, an unusual feature in such a happy person.

Her teeth are yellowed and a bit crooked. She's not blessed with a brilliant complexion, her eyes are too narrow.

Yet it is her smile, that happy spark in her black eyes that makes this woman beautiful.

"Yeah. I'm a little tired." My hands are scarred; the small finger on my right hand has healed from a broken bone far to the right. My nails have grown long, since I stopped the habitual biting. I keep them obsessively clean. Yet still, there are white half moons all over the shield of my flesh.

I have a hang nail—

"Derek?"

I snap my attention back to this woman of my height. Trying to go back to the Reality, yet slowly for the Dream blocks the efficiency.

"Go take a nap, I'll wake you for supper."

I nod. Slipping off shoes my mother would have taken a Scorching Hex to.

I walk slowly gathering static on my socks. I remember in school someone mentioned electricity being created by static and hydropower.

Fascinating. These artificial lights. Blind scholars avoided.

More fascinating is the machines or whatever…

My headache is pending to destroy my temples and throwing me into a whirlwind of madness.

There's a girl in a picture to the side of the wall. She's smiling tooth fully and has a bright yellow daisies sundress.

It has me wondering where she went…

Another lost soul?

I've asked Rick, but he's always saying it's a niece of his who lives in Canada.

_Canada._

My family once went to Canada. To the side of fresh watered lakes and rainforests so beautiful. Mountains that are green, grey and white. Listening to the birds exotic magical…

Sometimes I fall so deep in my Dream that I can still smell the fresh pine and hear the splashes of pixies playing in the puddles underneath the trees.

--- ------

The room I have is sparse on material goods. There's a Nirvana poster. It's a supposedly good band. I wouldn't know though my favourite band has always been Elf's Eyes.

My small single bed has white covers that closely blend into the wall. The beige carpet adds a touch.

My old bedchambers at Malfoy Manor were overdone with hardly a thought put to them. Sometimes I wonder if through my experience in the Muggle World, if I have changed for the better, or if I just think I've changed when in reality I've changed not at all.

I place my bag down, watching the scarred skin of my knuckles shift and the skin stretch over them.

When I was a child my father would run his own fingers over my tiny hands. I never thought much about it. But as anything these days, thinking of the past is a habitual past time of mine.

---- ------

"_Innocence?_

_Bah._

_No such thing_

_People are who they are_

_Innocence and experience do not factor _

_Into life._

_I think,_

_Believe_

_That everyone has a thought, not _

_On innocence or experience_

_Choices._

_It's all about_

_Choices."_

_--_Scribble I wrote at

the back of some notebook.

--- -----

A/N: The title **Born to Kill** is from a Matt Good song everyone should check out.

The original Muggle characters (I'll introduce them more fully as we go along) they were given to me by **YingYangWhiteTiger **of Mallory will be going back to the Wizarding World. But I plan to build on that!


	2. we are the generation raised without rel

A/N: I fucked up on **YingYangWhiteTiger's **penname. So apologies to her. Assuming it is a her.

As for this chapter, I'm delving further into the person I've created in Draco. Derek.

As in any story, the beginning of this will be slow going but I'll get more into it myself.

Updates may be infrequent as I want to finish _A Stranger's Life, Dreaming Into Walls, _a new fic _Razorblade Romance _and a couple oneshots before the last books comes out.

So here it goes.

Chapt. 2 

"**We are the Generation Raised Without Religion."**

There are recreational activities one indulges in when they are bored.

Kathy's is to play her piano.

I've heard better. But she falls into it rather better than my mother did. I suppose it was something she was forced to do.

Other than the broomstick I had no hobbies.

I remember this girl standing outside this Muggle music store, she had purple dyed into her black hair. Clashing unbearably so. She wore the leather jacket collar rimmed around her neck. She wasn't thin, nor fat. The type of person who eats what she wants when she wants it. Her eyes were dark, I assume the colour was brown, but the frayed edges of the strands of hair in front of her face didn't allow me to see.

But it wasn't how shw looked, nor the girlish sing-sing voice that came from her— no, it was the words that her perfect stranger said—

"We are the Generation raised without Religion."

What is one to say to that?

Religion was never something the Wizarding World was interested in. All miracles are accepted as words of ancient or modern wizards. Angels are basic fucked up transfiguration— But the more I think of it…

Religion is Pureblood.

Pureblood had the same rites of tradition. The same principle of degenerates. The ones of lesser blood. Such as the half-breeds, half-bloods and non-humans.

What are the Religions? What have religious people believed to be their right based on their beliefs?

I can't help but think that girl was wrong.

For a generation raised without Religion, then why is everything based on it?

All I've heard are songs by bands denouncing God. Slogan's slandering Muslim, Christian and Jewish beliefs.

What of everyone's obsession with following the recently deceased Kurt Cobain? Or their blind following of his contemporaries?

How about the near satanic Marilyn Manson? Is he not the one people blame for kids going to schools with intent to do harm? Does he not overdo his religious beliefs in nearly all his songs?

The movies that are popular are based on the hatred for god.

People join the Buddhist belief or Hindu believing this will somehow help their hatred of Life after God…

Why is this?

To be honest I couldn't help but look at that girl in awe, for saying the words that connect both of my worlds.

Raised without Religion. With Reason and own free will. Unnoticed as it was.

--- -----

"Hello Derek." This is the smart, happy and friendly person whose name has left me.

I don't smile back. Their presence as well as group of uninteresting friends go past me.

The hallways are cluttered with students. Some of them walk past talking loudly into a black box by their ears. Some of them look at their feet and quake when eyes connect with other eyes.

Yet there are those who stare straight ahead and notice nothing.

I'm like that now. Lost in thoughts that do not linger in the paradox of thinking about nothing.

I remember being loud walking through stonewalls both talking loudly, taking up the whole hallways because I owned it all…

Was it better?

No.

People notice your ever shortcoming. They take sick delight in anything that is not your rightful ownership.

Being unnoticed is when you are not the person everyone created you to be. You are allowed to be whoever the hell you want to be.

I can drop my papers and leave them. Someone will throw them in the recycle. The papers will be replaced.

Perhaps bettered.

The only people who bother to talk to you are those whose entire life is based on approval.

Approval was what I once wanted. From my father, which disappointment arose at every turn.

Nothing could make me want approval anymore.

I don't believe I've not met one person who did not care about approval. Not in Hogwarts anyway.

In the Muggle World, people are vastly varied.

I think of that girl. The girl who paid no attention to the unstylish rips in her clothes. She didn't wear ripped jeans so stylish in our age groups. Black dress pants with bleach blotches. A sweater with a broken zipper supplemented with a rubber band.

She was the type of person who wasn't desperately unclean, judging by her genetically perfect teeth or her ungreased hair. She didn't brush it. Tangled all over the place with uneven ends. Black glasses sat on her face. Only making it seems rounder.

Unhappy. But at the same time not desperately so, not cranky or emotional.

She's not the only one of this persona. There are more I've seen. Though she's been my only interaction.

Am I like her?

No.

I am happy. Though sad.

_Lonely._

I have no one. Not a single soul. No one to talk to for years but a dead girl in a washroom.

My only friend. Without a name I can remember.

I don't want friends, I want to be alone.

But I want people to surround me. To stop this terrible feeling that comes to me.

Maybe that girl goes to this school.

"Heeeeyy, Derek my man!" There's a slap on my back from my locker mate.

Yes It's Jack Hellbrows.

--- ----

How do I explain the next bit?

Jack Hellbrows is a handsome athletic and popular guy.

Purely _Gryffindor._

He is the type of person everyone wants to be around. Everyone wants his approval of 'that's cool.'

Except for the people who could care less.

Just that same, you'll laugh at his stupidity, sigh and clench fists at his pigheadedness and wonder when he says something that he shouldn't have been able to say.

"So how many birds this weekend?" He's rummaging through his locker for whatever it is he needs.

I never reply to him. Today's no exception.

My fingers wrap around my Biology textbooks when a sudden pain shoots in my arm. I am uncomfortable with pain so I let out a hiss.

Jack Hellbrows is at attention staring at me.

"Why do you smell funky?" he snaps his fingers "Like burnt rubber or something?"

I roll my eyes close my locker and stand up. Shorter than him by 3". I just about walk away when the muscles in my arm seize up and I see white for a second. I've fallen into a locker, my books scattered and pain burning.

People are staring. Jack Hellbrows is pushing my hand away from my left arm and is staring at the product of Draco Malfoy.

"Holy Shit! That thing's like burning your arm!" He sounds amazed, impressed yet the same time there is a catch in his voice.

I ignore him, waiting for the pain to leave. To numb, I don't like to look at it.

There are several pairs of legs in front of me that I stay transfixed on.

--- -----

I'm in the sick room. The pain became so bad that I screamed and fainted.

I'm not strong. Never was.

There is no strength in stubbornness.

Sometimes I think I was born to be weak.

Rick's outside talking with the nurse to bring me home.

My arm hurts.

I haven't had this happen in awhile.

Even then, I was living on the streets so no one cared. Here, everyone cares.

I have a past. One they know nothing about. Other than that I lived as a homeless kid before Rick and Kathy.

In this school no one cared. Maybe I was that kid they had once played with…

But now the repercussions are going to be great. After all not only do I have a tattoo that eats the skin, none of them have ever seen me. None of them went to school with me. I wasn't in the yearbook, and maybe one of them gave money to a homeless kid- drug addict gang person on the streets…

If I know anything about being human is that people can _talk _and _will._

I have a headache. But I won't sleep.

For some reason I thought the woman was going to give me Healing Potions, and that my arm was broken from that fuckin' Hippogriff.

I can feel the side of my lip curl funny but fade at the memory of voices wondering where the scars came from.

----- -----

Rick and Kathy leave me alone about my story. They never mention it.

Sometimes, I think they know how scars can bleed and you suddenly find yourself haemophiliac.

Other times I think they're afraid of the answers to the scars, the lack of knowledge I've had with Muggle things.

I don't talk to them. I stay to myself.

They probably wonder when they'll wake up to find everything gone and me with it.

I would like to say that won't happen…

_Nothing's Impossible._

--- ------

Maybe if I tell myself people are not staring I'll believe it.

I'm not at school, instead shopping with Kathy for some clothes. I think she wants me to find a way to be comfortable with myself around her.

But everyone here knows. Knows the kid who looks albino has deep scars all over his body and a skull with a snake through it burning in his skin. The kid who showed up from nowhere and nothing to say about it.

The counter-girl is trying to flirt with me. She's super thin and tall, make-up placed to show all of her nice features and clothes appropriate for a workplace but still revealing.

In robes, things are left to the imagination.

I ignore her.

The clothes are stylish. But I don't want them. I pick the shirt with no logo, the jeans with no rips. The jacket with no secret to life posted on it.

Kathy looks disappointed. But I wanted nothing.

"Have a nice day." The girl is running her eyes over me.

Once I would have thought my lucky day.

Now I'm thinking how tired I am.

---- -----

Sometimes I can hear the sounds of calmness that I've never heard before.

Sounds of calmness is something I've never known to exist before.

Like a low humming at the base of loud noises or silence.

Once, two or three weeks ago, I dreamt I caught calmness like it was a snitch.

Only it turned out to be a ball of water. Still liquid. I woke up with the thought of a smile on my face.

----


	3. Morning Star

_**Chpt. 4**_

_You were the morning star among the living, _

_But now in death your evening lights the dead._

_-Plato._

A tornado with a halo.

It's that what it really is. A huge just of wind whirling around, dancing with the halo on his head. Or her.

---- ----

Lately I've gotten callers, the sort that I don't like.

Not the Lame Gang. No, but the people at that school who are in constant dying curiosity about me.

It bothers me that no one will leave me be. For some reason there's no one coming right up. Invites to parties, parties of people I have no idea who they are.

I mutter an incoherent 'uh huh' and get off the phone as quickly as I can.

At school there's bumping, asking questions, flirtations of all kinds.

My face is either red or blank.

I hope this goes away soon. That this interest in me goes away as fast as the Weasels ever disappeared.

---- -----

Her name is Tiffany Yunaruy, her father was once a friend of Rick's.

She's blonde and rich. Very rich.

From what I know she still comes over to see Kathy and Rick when her father pisses her off.

Though not voiced that way.

She giggles at all of Rick's' jokes, she inquires into Kathy's life as if she could possibly care about the menial hobbies.

I artfully ignore them all.

Today was worse at school than the other days. After all Hellbrows' pathetic attempts to be my 'friend' have been driving me up the wall.

I wonder if Potter ever had to deal with that?

No matter.

The reason why it was worse was because there was nothing to stop him from walking me with a bunch of his friends home.

When we got there he and his friends meet Kathy and Rick.

Now I have to deal with Kathy and Rick believing I have friends.

Yunaruy came over after them, making my obligation to sit in on the visit palpable.

She's wearing a plaid skirt that is short, a top shirt that allows her breasts seem bigger.

I don't believe its s school uniform, but she doesn't appear to be flirtatious with me, so my opinion of her isn't all that bad.

Well, if I did have an opinion of her. Incidentally I don't.

"Derek?" Rick's smiling at me, offering a cookie.

Oatmeal, yum.

--- ----

I'm worried, I'll admit it.

I'm worried because I know next to nothing about what's going on with the War. I have no way of finding out.

Sometimes, I watch Muggles, both in amazement on how _couldn't _they know, and in contempt when I think that if they can do all of _this_, why not help _us. _

Other times I don't think of it at all.

Sometimes I envy Muggles. Both for their ignorance and their intents of good positive things. Even when to the outside ears it still sounds wrong.

In my history class they've skimmed over World War 2, the war that happened at the same time as Grindelwald.

The things people did for the intentions of good as warped as it was. The cleaning for a good puritan race. The dropping of a bomb to destroy an enemy for the good of the world. The suicide deaths of honour. The burnt evidence…

On the other side of my envy is the pure adoration in the wake of what Muggles have had to go through to become superior than Wizard's in nearly every way.

I feel cheapened by Muggles because of this.

My entire life was focussed on learning spells to the point of doing nothing but steer a broom with my hands.

Hell to torture and kill a person there are the Unforgivables.

But Muggles play mind games. They have sick things such as ads that make me feel inadequate of who a person is.

Even for those they have remedies that can be fixed. Such as a little thing they call a 'pill', or tubes that suck out the fat from you body…

The last is gross. But they do it.

There are other things such as alcohol things the Teevee shows me that makes one want to buy some.

In stark contrast Muggles demand truth wherever you turn.

Truth about their government, truth about people, animals, religion, food, drugs…

I try not to watch the news too much. After a while I get a headache trying to keep up. Rick usually comes in the room and changes the channel without thinking to people kicking a ball around.

Muggles are more complicated than Arithmancy.

--- ----

"I'll pick you up at nine for Jeff's party." Hellbrows says.

I raise my eyebrow. I've already said no. If Hellbrows comes to Kathy and Rick's I'll have to go on their insistence.

Sighing I turn around and start to walk to my English class.

---- ---

The party is noisy and there ware rainbow lights blinking on and off all over the place.

I hadn't wanted to come.

"Heeeyyyy— Derek right?" Some person with a drunken grim comes right up to my face, learning in close as I lean back. The smell is unacceptable.

I sniff and turn my head trying to focus on something else.

Hellbrows shoves me into a different part of the house that is brighter with only a dim light and no blinking ones.

"Great! You brought him." Says some guy with dorky square glasses.

"Is this that guy you were just talking about?" Says some girl with a brassiere for a shirt.

I cringe at the fact that she's wearing such an inappropriate outfit.

"Yeah. Hey Dere, can we see the tattoo?" Without ceremony my arm is grabbed and the tattoo is shown.

"That's awesome! Where'd you get it done?" I snatch my arm back and don't answer. Not that I need to as they all start talking of everything tattoo related.

Yunaruy's apparently here too. She smiles at me and tips a red plastic cup at me. I nod, accepting the new one she offers me.

"Didn't know you knew Jack?" I shrug sipping the bitter watery liquid.

"How do you know him?" I don't care, but its awkward to be somewhere you don't know anybody.

She shrugs, "After you go to these things for a couple of months, you'll know everybody."

I frown when I see what she's wearing.

Short skirt and a scarf top.

Ridiculous.

Hellbrows comes back in. He and Yunaruy start talking, I start to stare off into space.

I start when something crashes into me. Only to find myself looking into the face of that girl who said 'We are the Generation raised without Religion.'

"Sorry." Her voice is soft and feminine, but her eyes are bloodshot. Her pupils huge and breath smells of an illicit plant.

I feel my heart race like it did when I first met Potter. Not love, but that excited feeling you get when you felt that a person could be your friend.

"Hey, Leper. We getting' outta here or what?" Comes a drawl from a girl with dark green hair and cranky face.

'Leper' nods.

I grab her arm.

"Can I come?"

Her lip pierce glints as she nods. Slightly.

--- -----

None of us are talking as we walk down the street. Deserted the party distant and odd sounding behind us.

"So kid, you don't seem the type to go to a party like that." The girl with green hair is smoking a cigarette.

"I'm not." She nods.

None of us talk.

In a strange way I like it more than I did all the times I talked with Blaise, Pansy or Theodore.

By the end of the walk we're in a neighbourhood that looks worse for wear.

"Do you do anything?" Her voice is not at all severe like her friends.

I assume that they're talking about Muggle drugs. I shake my head.

"That's cool." Her purple hair glints. Her friend actually smiles at me.

"Listen kid, we're gonna be at a friend's come with us that's cool, we're just hanging out. Hell, you seem like an all right kid. Got any money?" I pull out the papers that are Muggle currency.

"15 Pounds? Probably won't need to spend that all." She murmurs to herself.

I make a deal with myself. Buy the stuff and don't take it.

We finally make it to the house.

We go into the broken decrepit house, finding it smoky and full of people.

"Hey, where were you guys?" A big guy with long hair comes up.

"Went to that fuckin' Jeff's party. To drop of some shit Jay gave me." The soft feminine voice beside me says.

"Whatever you say Leper. Chantal get your arse over here."

Everyone here just lazes as they sit around and either talk softly, smoke (in one case a girl leans forward to sniff out of a tube) or do nothing at all.

I just lean back and take it all in.

Someone hands me something, "I'll give you three for 5 pounds." I nod.

They look like those Muggle pills. I inspect them.

"One's Green Exclamation, The others are Pink Heart, Blue Dolphin." I nod.

'Leper' nudges me. "Come on I'll get you some water."

--- ----


	4. Author's note

My sister is borrowing my laptop. I get paid so no problem.

With this story I do have a direction that will have to ignore the next book. Though I'm a little upset this will be AU it will definitely continue.

I will delete this as soon as the next chapter is typed up. This might take a week or two considering if I'm lazy and don't want to visit my sister for my laptop.

I am writing this in rough draft on paper and am already near the end of it.


End file.
